Code Red
by rustbucket
Summary: Starlight Express fic. The life story of CB, and why he's the way he is. My first chapter story. Chapter 6 up.
1. The Calm Before the Storm

Charlie and Claire rolled down the tracks, in the back of the freight train that had kindly allowed them to tag along. Claire was in no condition to be on the rails, and the whole train knew it. She was in the back, in front of the engine that had been pushing from behind, to help keep the engine in front from overworking himself. It was a steam engine, and he seemed deeply concerned about both of the cabooses. He'd explained that he lived in the yard, coming up, and would gladly give them shelter, if they needed it. They'd accepted, grateful for the help.  
  
Claire looked over her shoulder, at the engine. He was older than most engines she'd seen, and had kind, gentle eyes. He looked to be in his mid-forties, and had kind eyes. She was curious. Why had he allowed them to join the train? Why had he offered them shelter? Most engines didn't care a bit for cabooses. In fact, they hardly ever paid any attention to them, at all.  
  
"So… I'm Claire. My boyfriend is Charlie."  
  
"Poppa. I've got a family at home. Belle, and our son, Rusty. Belle's a sleeper, and Rusty's an engine, like me."  
  
"Sounds like you have a nice family… So… Why are you offering us a place to stay…?"  
  
"Can't a fella be nice?"  
  
Claire turned around, as Charlie tapped her on the arm.  
  
"And why are you so curious?" he asked. "Poppa's only trying to do us a favor. Be grateful. The three of us do need a place to stay, after all."  
  
Claire looked down at her swollen stomach, and sighed. Her boyfriend was right. They needed a place to stay, until their child was born, and until they could get enough money to take care of the new life they were bringing into the world. She sighed. She couldn't help it, if she was mistrustful, it was the way she was. She was a caboose, after all.  
  
The cabooses instinctively braked, as the engines began slowing, when they entered the yard. They looked around, and waited for Poppa to finish his work, before they followed him toward a sleeping car that held a tiny, young steam locomotive in her arms. Claire smiled, hoping her child would be just as cute as the one she saw.  
  
"Poppa!"  
  
"Hey, Belle. Hey, kiddo. I want you to meet Charlie and Claire. They sort of need a place to stay, for a while… It okay with you, Belle?"  
  
Belle looked them over, and smiled.  
  
"Of course. We can't leave them out on the rails, with winter coming, can we? Especially not with them expecting a kid."  
  
Claire smiled, and ducked her head. She wasn't embarrassed, only shy. She wasn't used to being around groups of trains, it was usually just her and Charlie, at the back. She was usually in front of him, with him in the back. He was stronger, and it was much easier for them to brake a long train, when he was behind her. Not that she would be working, much, for a while. She was really going to miss being on the rails, after the baby was born.  
  
Belle took her arm, and the group went toward the roundhouse. Her eyes went wide. They were going to stay with the family? She wasn't sure she wanted to spend time with them, until she got to know, them, but they seemed so nice.  
  
"This is just until we get back on our feet."  
  
"Don't worry about it, Charlie," Poppa said. "Stay as long as you need to."  
  
Charlie nodded.  
  
"If you say so… I'm going to start looking for work, tomorrow, though."  
  
"Good idea."  
  
A month passed. Claire seemed to grow larger every day. Soon she needed help even getting out of a chair. She grew to like Belle, and Belle took her under her wing, teaching her to cook, and such, skills she had really needed to work on. She watched Charlie leave for work, every time. Sometimes he and Poppa were gone for days, and she was left with Belle and Rusty. She and Charlie had gotten their own home, but with her being so close to her due date, Charlie and her friends wouldn't hear of her being alone.  
  
The caboose delighted in letting Rusty babble his toddler-talk at her stomach. Belle thought it was absolutely hilarious, and had Claire broadcast it to Charlie and Poppa, one night, as they were on their way back home. The engine and the caboose had become good friends, just as Claire and Belle had. It seemed like everything was wonderful, until a night about two months after the cabooses had come to stay with Poppa and Belle.  
  
Claire awakened, confused. She automatically reached for Charlie, before realizing he was on a run, and would be home in a few hours. She slowly sat up, and called for Belle, as a blast of pain announced what it was that had awakened her. The sleeping car came rushing in.  
  
"What is it, Claire?"  
  
"Belle, the baby…"  
  
"Starlight… Okay, just stay calm, I'm going to call for a repair truck, and tell the trains that stay near the entrance of the yard to watch for Poppa and Charlie. They should be here, soon."  
  
"I hope so…"  
  
Claire was worried about something. She could sense something was wrong. She had no idea what it was, but it was something. Belle glanced at her, and she knew Belle could sense it, too. She let her head drop back to the pillow, and whimpered, as she looked out the window. It was a white out, outside. She knew help might not make it, in time. She prayed it would, because she had a feeling that if it didn't arrive soon, she wouldn't survive the night.  
  
A few hours later, Belle sat, quietly humming, as she placed a cold cloth over Claire's forehead. The caboose wasn't doing well. Belle rushed toward the door, as she heard knocking, and let in the repair truck. She was trying her hardest to keep calm, for Claire's sake. The caboose was obviously in a very bad way, and didn't need to know her friend was stressed out.  
  
"What took so long?" she asked. "I called for you hours ago!"  
  
"I'm sorry!" the repair truck replied, perhaps a bit too tersely. "There's a lot of emergencies! There was a derailing. Charlie and Poppa are in the repair shops, they'll be here as soon as they can… There's a blizzard going on, out there, in case you hadn't noticed, Belle!"  
  
"Of course I noticed! But I've got a close friend here, having a baby! She's not doing too well, either."  
  
"Calm down, Belle… You just go check on Rusty, I'll check on Claire, okay?"  
  
"All right…"  
  
Belle checked on Rusty, and then sat down on the couch, and cried, for a bit. Things weren't looking good, and she knew there was a good chance that she was going to lose her friend. Poppa rolled in, then, having gotten the news. He took one look at Belle, and sat next to her.  
  
"Oh, Poppa…"  
  
"Claire…?"  
  
"I don't know…"  
  
The repair truck rolled out, then, a grim look on his face.  
  
"Belle, please come with me, I need your help. Poppa, make sure Charlie stays out here, things aren't going well…"  
  
"Right," the steamer replied.  
  
Belle followed the repair truck. She managed to regain her composure, and rolled up to Claire. The caboose looked up at her, and smiled weakly.  
  
"Hi, Belle…"  
  
"Hi, Claire…"  
  
Belle gently dabbed the caboose's forehead with a damp cloth, and did what she could, to help the repair truck. Claire's condition didn't improve, and she seemed to be having more and more trouble, with each passing contraction. It took all Belle's willpower, to keep her composure, when the repair truck told Claire it was time to push.  
  
Twenty minutes later, the repair truck set the baby down in Belle's arms, since Claire was too weak to hold him. The sleeping car looked at him, and held him so that his mother could see him.  
  
"Oh, Claire… He's beautiful… He looks just like you…"  
  
"No… He has… He has Charlie's eyes…"  
  
"What are you going to call him?"  
  
"Chatterbox… CB…"  
  
"That's cute, Claire. I like it."  
  
Claire never answered. She was gone. Belle and Poppa broke the news to Charlie. The next morning, the caboose didn't show up to work. He was found, too weeks later, at the foot of a cliff. CB was left in the care of Belle and Poppa.  
  
And thus began his life. The calm before the storm had ended, and the hurricane had begun. 


	2. Evil's Birth

The young caboose watched, as the other trainlets played, near the roundhouse. All he could think about was how much he hated them. They were all kind to him, and tried to get him to come and play, but he wouldn't. He only wanted them to stay away from him. He didn't want to be near them.  
  
Unless one looked at his past, they would see no reason at all, for the eight-year-old caboose to feel so hateful, toward the other trainlets. There was no reason, at all. But, if they looked closer, and found out about his past, they'd find that the other trainlets had something that he desperately wanted: A family.  
  
Chatterbox, or CB, as he was always called had been born a little over eight years ago. His mother had died, just after. His father had been so distraught that he's rolled off a cliff. CB had been raised by steam locomotive, Poppa, and a sleeping car, Belle. Their son, Rusty, would have been like an older brother, had the caboose allowed himself to get close to the ten-year-old steam locomotive.  
  
CB preferred being left alone, however. The other children, especially Rusty and some of the freight, were very kind to him, but he wouldn't let himself see that they were being friendly, not pitying him. He wasn't happy, not at all. Poppa and Belle had promised that he'd never want for anything, as long as they lived. They couldn't however, stop him from wanting a family.  
  
"Hey, caboose!"  
  
CB jerked. He hated being called "caboose". It made him so angry, made him want to hurt the person calling him that. He turned, to find Greaseball, a diesel engine two years older than Rusty, staring down at him.  
  
"Who, me?"  
  
"Yeah, you, caboose! Come on, I need you to help me with training."  
  
"Yeah, right… I'm too young…"  
  
Greaseball grabbed the caboose's arm, and dragged him along. CB struggled, kicking and screaming. He knew what was going to happen. Greaseball and his gang were going to beat him up, again. He called out, as he saw Poppa rolling towards home, in the distance. Greaseball and the other diesels saw Poppa turn, and rush toward them. They weren't, however, about to let CB off the hook that easily. By the time Poppa was close enough to make them turn tail and run, the small caboose was covered with bruises and cuts. His helmet was cracked, and his ankle hurt him terribly, being sprained, at the very least. Poppa knelt next to him, and Rusty and Pearl rushed up. Pearl was eight, CB's age. Another coach, Dinah, rolled up, after seeing Greaseball was gone. She took one look at CB, and started to cry.  
  
"I told them not to, Poppa, I did! They wouldn't listen!" she whimpered. "They wouldn't listen!"  
  
"Pearl, take Dinah home, dearie." Poppa said. "Rusty, go tell Belle what happened. Tell her I'm taking CB to be repaired."  
  
"Yes, Poppa."  
  
The small group split up, and Poppa carefully lifted the caboose off the ground. CB yelped in pain, as his ankle brushed against a nearby railing.  
  
"Sorry, kiddo. Just hang on, we'll have you good as new, in no time."  
  
Poppa shook his head, as the caboose gave him a sullen glare. The trainlet had no sense of pain, apparently, for Poppa knew most his age would be wailing, with damages such as the diesels had inflicted on him. The steam locomotive knew the caboose was tough, but couldn't understand why the caboose wouldn't fight for himself, or at least defend himself, somehow. He was upset, because he didn't want the tiny caboose to get seriously hurt, or even worse, someday. He'd promised to raise the trainlet as best he could, and he didn't want to see CB in pain.  
  
"Poppa, what did I do to Greaseball, anyway?"  
  
"Greaseball's a bully, kiddo."  
  
"Then I'll be a bully, too."  
  
"CB, that would hurt Belle and I a lot."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because Belle, Rusty, and I are your family. We don't like bullies."  
  
CB began to struggle, and refused to stop, until Poppa had set him on his wheels.  
  
"You're not my family! My family is dead!"  
  
"CB…"  
  
"No! I can do just fine, without you! I'll show you! I'll show you ALL!  
  
The caboose turned and rushed off, as fast as he could, with his injured leg. Poppa pursued. The locomotive was quicker, but CB knew of every hiding place in the area. Poppa searched for an hour, before meeting up with Belle. The sleeping car had a worried look on her face.  
  
"Where's CB?"  
  
"He ran off."  
  
Belle sighed.  
  
"Crazy kid… Don't worry, he's done this, before. He'll be back for dinner."  
  
Poppa shook his head.  
  
"I hope so, Belle. He was pretty angry…"  
  
CB, however, had no intention of returning home. He was headed for open tracks. He wanted to get as far away from home as possible. He met up with a young steam locomotive, and they both realized they were headed the same way. The steam engine decided to let CB come with him. The steamer was friendly, enough, but CB didn't like him. So, he decided he wanted to be rid of his new friend.  
  
Within a few days, they came to a bridge. CB knew he was supposed to be careful, but he put on his brakes. He didn't know why, but he did. He wanted to be rid of his friend, and he figured if he did the wrong thing, at the wrong time, the engine would leave.  
  
"CB, why are you putting on the brakes? CB! Take off the brakes!"  
  
CB was frightened, and he did so. What he didn't expect was that the sudden release of the brakes would make the locomotive lose control. The caboose uncoupled, only to watch, terrified, as the locomotive fell off the bridge. CB looked down, and saw the locomotive lying in the water, beneath the bridge. He didn't feel remorse, and it scared him. He felt power. He could make other's fear him! He could hurt them! It felt wonderful! It was a rush! He was powerful! He was feared! He was… He was hungry!  
  
CB managed to get some food, and shelter, in a nearby yard, and hoped to stay there, at least for a few days. He felt more at home, there. He felt comfortable enough to go get some food with the resident trains, the next day. He met up with an older caboose, and sat next to him.  
  
"Hey, kid. You have a name?"  
  
"CB."  
  
"That stand for something?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Your parents around?"  
  
"They're dead. Have been for eight years."  
  
"Oh. What were their names?"  
  
"Charlie and Claire."  
  
"Oh. I knew them."  
  
CB looked up. This caboose knew his parents? Perhaps he'd stay here, after all.  
  
"What's your name?" the little red caboose asked.  
  
"Chris. My name's Chris."  
  
CB smiled. He liked this caboose. 


	3. Evil Contained

The thirteen-year-old caboose quietly looked at the twenty-two-year old caboose that was castigating him. CB had just wrecked his fifth train. Christopher, the older caboose, was giving him hell for it. He wanted the younger caboose to regret what he'd done. CB would never regret it, though. He saw it as a form of revenge. He wanted others to feel his pain. Chris just didn't understand. He never would, he had a family. A family was what CB desperately wanted. He wanted one so desperately, that he was willing to kill, even at a young age, to ease his pain.  
  
To ease his pain, CB had murdered five engines, and countless freight cars. He'd started as an eight-year-old, and couldn't stop. It hurt him, to think that he couldn't keep from harming others. But it didn't matter. It never had, it never would. Never. He was who he was, and nothing could change that. Nothing. Nobody. He wouldn't change for anyone. Never.  
  
"CB! Are you listening?" Chris asked. "You better be listening to me!"  
  
The young caboose glared at the friend that had helped him, for the past five years. He'd been an eight-year-old runaway, when Chris, then eighteen, had met him, and taken him in. He'd thought the older caboose had understood, but apparently he hadn't.  
  
"Chris, would you just stop? I'm a big guy, now, I don't need you telling me what to do, anymore!"  
  
"CB… Chattterbox, look…"  
  
"I told you never to call me that! NEVER!"  
  
Chris stared. He'd made a mistake! It wasn't his fault! How could the kid hold it against him? Why had the younger caboose freaked out, so badly? Chris began to worry.  
  
"I'm sorry, CB…"  
  
"Sorry doesn't cut it, Chris! Stop treating me like a kid, or you're next on my list!"  
  
Chris watched, as CB stalked off. He sighed, and looked down at the radio he held. He'd had it on broadcast, the whole time. Now, he lifted it toward his face.  
  
"See what I mean, Poppa? He's getting worse. I'm worried about him. Hurry and come get him."  
  
"I will. Just give me an hour."  
  
"Right."  
  
Chris turned, to find CB staring at him. The young caboose lifted the chair his hands gripped. The teenage caboose's eyes filled with tears, and he whimpered.  
  
"I thought you were my friend…"  
  
Chris backed into a wall, as CB came toward him.  
  
"I am, CB… If you'd let me explain…"  
  
"I'm sick of explanations…"  
  
CB swung the chair, catching Chris in the forehead with the corner of the seat. Blood oozed from the cut that the chair had opened. Chris collapsed, dazed. CB brought the chair down, again and again. Blood! Power! He was somebody! He was making his parents proud! They'd be proud of him, for overcoming all the obstacles set in front of him, and being strong! He was being strong! He was proud! Strong! Powerful! Brave! He was angry… Hurting… Frightened… Chris was his friend! He had to stop! He was killing his best friend! He was powerful! He was a murderer! He was killing his only friend!  
  
CB eventually stopped swinging the chair. He fell to his knees, half exhausted, half-insane. He sobbed, and stared at the bloody mess his friend's head had become. He'd smashed his friend's skull, blood was oozing in a puddle on the floor. He trembled, as he turned away, only to see Poppa come through the door. He didn't move, didn't breathe.  
  
"CB…"  
  
"I didn't mean it… I couldn't stop… I didn't want to kill him…"  
  
"Stay here, CB. I'll get help."  
  
"No, please! I… Don't leave me alone with him! He'll come back, he'll hurt me!"  
  
Poppa gently took the young caboose's arm, and led him off. He knew he had to get the caboose hidden,  
  
before he was found, and carted off. He'd made a promise to the caboose's parents, long, long ago. To not  
  
keep that promise would be to go back on his word, which is something a steamer never, ever did.  
  
The caboose didn't struggle, not even one time. He was too frightened. His friend was dead... All he could hear was his friend's voice... "Let me explain..." And he'd killed his friend. He cried, when Belle took him into her arms, hours later. He wasn't crying for the reasons his adoptive family thought, though... He was crying, because he was in a daze... And because all he could think about was that Christopher's blood was all over him... And would never come clean...  
  
The caboose was surrounded by friends, for the next five years. The others never mentioned what he'd done, where he'd been... And they listened, with disgusted interest, when he mentioned it. At the end of tive years, he'd participate in the races, with his friends, as he'd be an adult, and finally, finally, old enough to participate.  
  
But, when he was sixteen, after having come so far, and regained most of his sanity, the worst possible thing could have happened... CB made the worst mistake of his life... He met Electra, and brought him to the trainyard, as a chore... And the electric engine somehow brought out the demons, again... They were weak, but grew stronger, every day. By race night, they were ready to break free. And, then, because the caboose was unprepared for the sudden loss of his sanity, all hell broke loose... 


	4. A Shock in the Dark

It seemed so long ago, to CB, that he'd been brought back to the trainyard, and been taken in by Poppa and Belle. He'd been happy, for a long time, though he had been plagued by nightmares... But now, things were changing. He'd met Electra, and the electric engine had decided the caboose would be useful.  
  
At the moment, CB was in bed, resting up, after an extremely long freight run. It had been hard, and yet, he'd managed. He'd only been working for three years, on the line that called his yard home. He was now getting ready to move out, and be on his own. He was eighteen, now, and even though he was preparing for the races, he still had to do his share of the work.  
  
The caboose jerked upright, as something hit his window. He looked out, and saw Joule below him. The young dynamite car motioned for him to open the window. He did so, and leaned out.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"Electra wants to see you."  
  
"What for?"  
  
"It's about the races."  
  
"Be right down... I have to sneak out..."  
  
"Hurry, CB! Electra's not a locomotive who likes to be kept waiting."  
  
The caboose sighed, as he snuck out the back door. He rolled toward Joule, and suddenly found himself being wrestled to the ground by her fellow components, Krupp and Purse. Purse clamped a hand over the caboose's mouth, as he tried to scream for help.  
  
"Yell, and I'll kill you!" Krupp whispered.  
  
CB felt a gun press against the back of his head, and he knew the armaments car was serious. He did the best thing he could think of. He went limp, and kept silent.  
  
"You guys promised you wouldn't hurt him!" Joule whispered, panic in her eyes.  
  
"Shut up, Joule." Purse growled.  
  
The two male components pulled CB to his wheels, and Krupp held his arms, now bound behind his back, and forced him to roll forward.  
  
"What's Electra want, this time?"  
  
"That's for us to know, and you to find out, cutie." Purse said, pinching the caboose's cheek.  
  
CB jerked against the bonds that held him, screaming curses at the money truck. Krupp kicked his legs out from beneath him, and CB fell to the ground, getting the wind knocked out of him. Krupp glared at the caboose, and kicked him. Purse took the hint, and joined in, kicking at the caboose.  
  
"Purse, Krupp, stop it!" Joule yelled. "You guys promised!"  
  
Joule grabbed Purse's arm, and pulled him back. The money truck jerked free, and backhanded her. She fell, after staggering backward a few feet. She watched, as they continued kicking at the caboose, who was, by now, only semiconscious, and bleeding from gashes on his arms, on his right cheek, and above his left eye.  
  
Krupp gave CB a kick to the stomach. The caboose retched, and barely managed to keep from vomiting. Something in him told him that they deserved just as much as they were doing to him, and worse. He fought it down, struggling to stay in balance, to keep the sanity he'd worked so hard to regain. He managed to force the anger back, and glared up at the two components.  
  
Joule whimpered, as a familiar form helped her up. She stared up at the locomotive she'd been working for since childhood. He'd taken her, and the others in, when nobody else wanted them. In return, they'd become his components. None could function without the others, including him.  
  
"Electra... Make them stop... Please..."  
  
The electric locomotive stared sadly at the handprint on Joule's cheek. His head angrily jerked toward his male components.  
  
"Purse! Krupp! Stop harming the caboose, he's done nothing to harm either of you!"  
  
The two components backed off, not wanting to face Electra's wrath. They glared at the caboose, and watched, as Joule and Volta, the dynamite and freezer trucks, respectively, helped CB to his wheels. The caboose couldn't stand on his own, and could barely lift his head to look at Electra.  
  
As the electric locomotive explained things to the caboose, two of his female components helped the caboose back to the doorstep of the home he shared, with Poppa, Belle, and Rusty.  
  
"So, CB... You'll help me?"  
  
"Only if you'll keep Purse and Krupp away from me."  
  
"It's a deal."  
  
The two shook hands. Electra mussed the caboose's hair.  
  
"Sorry about this, kid... I have to make it look like it was some sort of accident. Anyone finds out, and I'll make sure Purse and Krupp finish the job they started. And that's a promise."  
  
The electric locomotive placed a hand on the back of the caboose's neck. He pulled the caboose forward, and kissed him on the forehead. A blast of electricity went through the caboose, and he screamed. Electra sighed, as CB fell to the ground.  
  
"Volta, Purse, Joule, Krupp... Come... Let's all get back, and see how Wrench is doing on that new axle I need..."  
  
The components turned and left, following Electra. Joule stopped, a moment, and looked at the caboose.  
  
"I'm sorry, CB... I tried to stop them..." she whispered. "I tried..."  
  
"Joule!" Electra called.  
  
"Coming, Electra..."  
  
CB remembered a time when Dinah had said almost the same thing to Poppa. That had been just before he'd run away. It had been before everything bad happened. A tear slipped down the caboose's cheek, before everything went black. 


	5. An Unexpected Ray of Hope

CB quietly ducked into a corner. He listened, as the group of enraged trains dashed past. He turned, to go deeper into the darkness of the space between the two buildings, but found himself blocked by three forms, all of them familiar.  
  
Poppa, Belle, and Dinah stared quietly. The caboose stared back, and tears formed in his eyes. The sadness and disappointment in the eyes of his "parents" caused him to be unable to meet their eyes. Dinah was worse. He'd promised her he'd always be there. Always. And he couldn't bear breaking a promise to her. The eighteen-year-old caboose collapsed to his knees. He started sobbing, as Dinah knelt next to him, and wrapped him in a hug.  
  
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Voices. Darkness. Couldn't stop, Dinah. Couldn't stop."  
  
"CB. You have to calm down. Poppa, Belle, and I, we're going to get you out of here. We'll get you someplace safe, until everything dies down."  
  
"No. I deserve to be scrapped. I don't deserve to live."  
  
"Don't you dare say that, to me. To us! We're going to get you out of this mess. You'll be all right."  
  
"No, I won't."  
  
Rusty peered around the corner, looking worried.  
  
"Come on, people, let's get this over with!"  
  
Unbeknownst to CB, Rusty was his ride to safety. Poppa sighed, as Dinah and Belle explained this to the frantic caboose. The two steamers peered around the corner, then Rusty dashed off, with CB in tow. Pearl joined the three being left behind, various worries silently making themselves known, in her eyes.  
  
"Do you think they'll be all right, Belle?"  
  
"Of course, they will, dear. Rusty's smart, he knows where to go."  
  
"I hope so."  
  
Three days later, CB awakened, in the care of a repair truck. He'd passed out, just after Rusty and he had arrived, and there was no explanation for it happening. He'd been in and out of consciousness, since that time. He'd relived what had happened, over and over, in his mind.  
  
The races, Electra leaving in a huff, he trying to pry himself off of Greaseball (the dirty piece of junk that had hurt Dinah's feelings, in front of him, and caused him to lose control.), his promise to Dinah, fleeing, everything, over and over again. He awakened screaming.  
  
"Hey. Hey! Calm down!"  
  
CB looked up, into the most beautiful pair of eyes he'd ever seen. His eyes traveled over the face above him. He gasped, realizing it was a female caboose. He looked down at his bare chest, having gotten the sheets tangled, and quickly pulled the covers over himself. The caboose laughed.  
  
"Well, you're a shy one, aren't you, CB?"  
  
The red caboose looked down, not saying a word. He pulled the sheets tighter around himself, and curled into a tight ball of fear. The brick- colored caboose placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to be comforting, but only making CB curl into an even tighter ball.  
  
"I understand. I know someone's hurt you, I've been hurt, too. I ended up the same way you are now. I killed, too."  
  
CB flashed back to what had happened, between himself and Chris, and began retching. The other caboose called out, rushing to the door, and the repair truck came in, rushing to find out what was making the caboose try to vomit.  
  
"Carolina, what happened?"  
  
"I'm not sure, really, Micki. I told him I'd done some of the same things he has, and."  
  
"I see. I understand, now. Don't do that, again. He'll talk about it, when he's ready. He'll talk, period, when he's ready."  
  
"But why'd he-"  
  
"The memories must be too much for him to handle. Be careful what you talk about."  
  
"Right."  
  
CB stared, as the repair truck left. His eyes rested on his companion. Her name was Carolina. He liked that, a lot. He liked her, a lot. She was small, clever. She had the same look he did, the look of someone trying to be good, but having to fight down something horrible, to do so. The look was far less noticeable, on her, though. She'd nearly conquered her demons.  
  
"So, CB. You can hear me talking, right?"  
  
CB gave a slight nod.  
  
"If you're not going to talk back, I need to find a way to have you communicate with me. The steamer. Rusty, is it? Right. He said you might feel more comfortable, with me around. Will you try and find a way to help me out, here? I mean, here we are, having a really one-sided conversation."  
  
CB reached up, and placed a finger over her lips. He gestured to his bare chest, and gave her a pleading look. She giggled, and went to get his outer clothing, then leaving him to get dressed.  
  
He shakily rolled out into the hallway, afterward, and found her, near a window. She looked out, seeming to be deep in thought. She was actually sorting through her past, trying to find a way to get through the walls CB was putting up around himself.  
  
CB tapped her on the shoulder, making her jump a bit. She smiled, and motioned to a nearby chair.  
  
"Care to sit down?"  
  
CB motioned for her to take the chair closest to her, and sat in one about ten feet from it.  
  
"Oh, come on, now, I won't bite you."  
  
CB only shrugged, and shook his head. He wasn't going to sit any closer.  
  
"So. Rusty never told us what your real name was. Only called you CB."  
  
Her companion narrowed his eyes, suspicion showing through them, and she changed the subject.  
  
"So, you haven't had any food in quite a while. Would you like something to eat?"  
  
CB nodded, and Carolina led the way to the kitchen. He stared around it. The kitchen hadn't been as big, back at Poppa and Belle's home. Come to think of it, everything had been small. It was a small yard, the buildings were small, and so was everything inside them.  
  
"Pick something out. I'll cook it, you're not allowed by the stoves."  
  
CB fumed, and kicked a chair.  
  
"Don't you start that, I'll have Micki in here, with restraints, in ten seconds."  
  
Carolina was surprised, when a look of question crossed CB's face.  
  
"Does the word straitjacket mean anything to you?"  
  
CB backed away, a surge of panic causing him to lose control of his emotions. Just what kind of a place was this? Straitjackets? What were they going to do to him? He'd kill them, before they did anything to him! He turned, and barreled back the way he'd come, finding the room he'd awakened in, and slammed the door on Carolina's wrist. The other caboose let out a shriek, and CB dashed into a corner, quaking with fear. Had he hurt her? There were panicky shouts, and he heard a click. He heard Carolina's panicky sobbing, and rushed to the door.  
  
He pounded on it, finding it locked. He heard Carolina start sobbing even more, and begging Micki not to put him in restraints. He went back to the corner, and curled up into a ball, eyes scanning the room for something he could use to hurt himself, the way he'd hurt Carolina. There was nothing. He put his head in his arms, and cried for two hours, until he heard his door opening.  
  
He tried to crawl farther into the corner, as Carolina came back into the room, followed by a large diesel locomotive. The locomotive stood in a corner, crossing his arms. Carolina's wrist was badly bruised, and her hand was slightly swollen. It was held still with a splint and a sling. CB's eyes flicked between both, panic surging through him, again.  
  
"It's all right, CB." Carolina whispered. "This is Garrett, he's Micki's engine. He won't hurt you, he just wants to make sure you're not going to hurt me."  
  
CB launched himself at the female caboose, wrapping his arms around her, and sobbing. She stiffened, for a moment, then hesitantly returned the embrace.  
  
"It's okay, CB. I promise. You'll be fine. I won't let anything happen."  
  
Carolina nodded to Garrett, and he left, leaving her to handle the problem on his own. He pointed to an alarm button on the wall, glaring at her, for emphasis.  
  
Carolina moved toward the edge of the bed, CB still clinging to her. She sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled him down next to her. He leaned his head on her shoulder, just as he'd done so often with Belle, when she'd come to comfort him, when he was a young child. His companion rubbed his back, letting him get his feelings out. He eventually loosened his hold on her, and pulled away, wiping at his eyes. He gave her an apologetic look.  
  
"Hey, now, you don't have a thing to be sorry for."  
  
CB sighed, and let his companion pull off his hat, and stare into his eyes. He averted his eyes, after a moment. Micki looked in the door. She smiled, seeing all was going well.  
  
Several days passed, and CB came out of his shell a bit more, each day. He grew to like Carolina, growing more trusting of her, every day, though he still tried his best to avoid Micki and Garrett like the plague. One day, Micki looked in on the two, while they held yet another one-sided conversation.  
  
"Letter for you, CB. Carolina, you have a package from your parents."  
  
CB gave Carolina a bit of a jealous look. Carolina took the mail, and handed CB his letter. He opened it, and scanned it. It was from Dinah. He began reading, eager to hear news of the yard, from her.  
  
Dear CB, Just wrote to see how you are. I miss you a lot, so do Poppa and Belle. They send their love, and said to tell you they hope to have you back, soon. So do I. Dustin and Rusty are the heroes of the yard. Even Greaseball is starting to come around, and he's congratulating them, whenever he sees them. I'm glad you're in a place where they can help you. It's best, this way. You'll come back to us, and everything will be okay, again. There are some pictures, here. Everyone wanted to send you some to cheer you up. We all love and miss you. Love, Dinah PS: Greaseball asked if he could become my engine, yesterday! I mean permanently, not just during working time. I told him yes. I'm so happy!  
  
Carolina looked up from the package, as his hands tightened on the letter, wrinkling it, and making a crackling noise.  
  
"CB?"  
  
He stared at the letter, upset clearly written on his face. Carolina gently pried it out of his hands, and scanned it, trying to figure out what was upsetting him. Her eyes went wide, and she shook her head.  
  
"I'm sorry. I know how it feels, to have someone you care for say something like that, to you. I was asked to have someone be my engine, once. I though he loved me, but. When I came here. Well, he found someone else, pretty quick."  
  
CB shook his head. This wasn't like that, at all. Dinah was his best friend, not his lover. But he still couldn't shake the feelings of heartbreak and loss. He took a few deep breaths, and calmed down, barely managing to fight back the wave of anger and darkness that surged up within him. He picked up the pictures, and started looking through them, showing them to Carolina.  
  
"It would be a lot nicer, if you could tell me who they are, CB."  
  
CB tapped the back of the picture she held. The names were written on the back. Carolina sighed. Another opportunity to get him to talk wasted. CB stared at the final picture. It was a snapshot of Poppa, Belle, Rusty, and himself. Carolina managed to get a glimpse of it, just before he placed it against his chest, and smiled a bit.  
  
"Is that your family?"  
  
CB waved his hand in a "sort of yes, sort of no" gesture.  
  
"Sort of.? Were you adopted?"  
  
CB nodded.  
  
"What happened to your real parents?"  
  
CB looked away, a slight groan escaping his lips.  
  
"Dead?"  
  
He nodded, his eyes closing to keep the sadness and anger in them from showing through.  
  
"Well, what happened to them?"  
  
CB pointed to himself. Carolina nodded, knowing a bit about what had happened, through Rusty, and knowing it was not the fault of her companion. She hugged him, and held out a picture of her own.  
  
"This is my family. The blue caboose is my father, the gray one is my mother, and the green ones are my twin brothers. And, of course, the brownish-red one is me."  
  
CB smiled. He opened his mouth, struggled with his fears, for a moment, and spoke to her, for the first time.  
  
"You. You look." he struggled, his voice hoarse from disuse. "You look like your mother."  
  
Carolina stared, taken aback, then smiled.  
  
"Flatterer."  
  
A few hours later, Carolina rolled into Micki's office, all smiles. The repair truck looked at her oddly. The caboose in front of her was much happier than usual, even happier than when, two weeks ago, Micki had allowed her to make the choice as to whether she wanted to stay, or to go back to her family.  
  
"He's talking, Micki!"  
  
"Good."  
  
"Good? That's all you can say?"  
  
"It's only the first step, you know."  
  
"I know. I've gotten his trust, what next?"  
  
"You have to get him to talk about his past."  
  
Carolina nodded. This wasn't going to be easy, at all. She had to try, though. It wasn't as if she was doing this for nothing.  
  
"I'll do my best, Micki."  
  
The caboose stood, but the repair truck stopped her.  
  
"Sit down, we need to talk."  
  
Carolina obeyed.  
  
"You've been spending an awful lot of time with CB."  
  
"So?"  
  
"I've seen the way you two look at each other, when you think the other is looking away, and nobody else is watching."  
  
"Oh, come on, I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Carolina, if you like him, that's all well and good. If you don't though, I don't want you to keep dragging him on. Now, go on back to your room, or wherever you're going."  
  
"Fine."  
  
Carolina rolled back to her room, fear and confusion clouding her mind. She was going through absolute hell, trying to sort out her feelings. She'd only wanted to help CB recover. She was angry with Micki for accusing her of not taking the other caboose seriously. She wanted nothing more than to acknowledge her feelings for CB.  
  
Her head said that they didn't belong together. Her heart said that she needed to stay with him, and yet, she longed to go back to her family. Maybe she could take CB with her, for a few days, if she could convince Micki. She turned back, and rolled purposefully back into Micki's office.  
  
"Micki, we have to talk."  
  
A few hours later, Micki rolled into CB's room, carrying one of Carolina's extra duffel bags. She tossed it on CB's bed. The male caboose looked up from his book, as Carolina peered around the door, Garrett's hand on her shoulder.  
  
"What's going on, Micki?"  
  
CB had stood, and backed up a bit, still nervous around the repair truck and her engine. He looked at the duffel bag. Surely they weren't putting him out on the rails! They couldn't be!  
  
"You're going with Carolina, for a few days, to visit her family. Garrett's going to take you there."  
  
"I'm going to. I can't!"  
  
"You can, and you will. You need to face up to being part of a family. They've agreed to help you with anything you can't handle."  
  
CB looked over at Carolina.  
  
"Please come, CB." she mouthed, silently. "I'll be right next to you, the whole time. I promise."  
  
"Fine. If you all want me to go, I will."  
  
And that settled it. CB packed his things. The three set out at dawn, the next morning. CB didn't know it, yet, but meeting Carolina's family would be the best thing to happen to him. 


	6. The Wall Has Crumbled

CB looked around, as Carolina watched Garrett leave. Two boyish shouts of joy rang out, and two identical green cabooses tackled her.  
  
"Carson! Chuckie!"  
  
Two adult cabooses, the male blue and the female gray, each pulled one twin off of their daughter. The female looked up, seeing the look of fear and discomfort CB wore. She nudged her Carolina, as she stood up, and smiled.  
  
"Introduce us to your friend, dear."  
  
"Oh, right! Mom, Dad, this is CB. CB, these are my parents. My mom's Camille, and my dad's Chang."  
  
"Oh, really? Does he have a brother named Eng?"  
  
"We get that all the time." Carolina groaned. "No, he doesn't."  
  
Carson and Chuckie rolled up to CB. Carson poked his arm, making him jump. He looked at Carolina, pleadingly.  
  
"Guys, you can't bother CB, okay? He doesn't like being near a lot of people."  
  
"You'll have to deal with it, kiddo, they're only four. They've always wanted a big brother."  
  
CB glared a bit, fighting back his anger.  
  
"Don't call me kiddo."  
  
"Okay. At least tell me your."  
  
"No, Dad!"  
  
".Real name."  
  
CB felt the panicky feeling surge within him, and he backed away. Carolina moved past her family, and placed a comforting arm around him. He tried to pull away, but she held on tighter.  
  
"It's all right, CB. He didn't mean anything by it. Please, just come home, with us. I'm here, I won't let anything happen."  
  
The family headed home, Carolina staying next to CB the whole time. She stared at the building her family called home, and sighed, happily. CB backed up, as her brothers pulled her through the door. Chang followed, carrying their duffel bags, but Camille turned toward him.  
  
"Why don't you come in? That's what you're here for, you know, to visit."  
  
CB looked at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. Camille rolled over to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He instinctively jerked away, moving his arm up, to protect his face from a blow that wouldn't come. Camille put her hands up in a gesture of peace.  
  
"It's all right. Really. I won't hurt you."  
  
Camille slowly reached out, and grasped CB's hand. He tensed up, then slowly began to relax, and allowed her to put an arm around him, and lead him inside. The building was bright and cheery, and made CB feel really out of place, and nervous. Carolina smiled, from the main room, where she was pulling her wrestling brothers away from her. Carson and Chuckie looked up, and exchanged a glance, as Camille led CB into the living room, and left him there. Before Carolina could stop them, the twins dashed toward CB, and tackled him, thinking he'd join in their game. CB was caught off guard, and fell backward. He hit the floor, his head hitting it rather hard, and his face went blank. Carolina pulled the boys away, and sent them to get their parents.  
  
"CB? CB, answer me! Are you okay? CB!"  
  
CB heard Carolina's panicked cries, but he couldn't answer them. He was flashing back to a time during his childhood, a time during which he was constantly running away from Greaseball and his gang. They'd gotten hold of him, and were beating on him, even while Poppa had been rushing to his rescue. They'd beat him about the head, and shoved him about, hurting his ankle rather badly.  
  
He felt himself being moved, vaguely, and started struggling. He heard Carolina's voice in his ear, trying to calm him down. He felt hands grasp his arms tightly, and screamed. He welcomed the blackness and numbness that came when he lost consciousness.  
  
"CB.? CB! Come on, I know you can hear me! Now, open your eyes!"  
  
The caboose groaned, as Carolina awakened him, the next morning. When he'd awakened, she'd dragged in the eight-year-old twins to apologize to him. He'd taken one look at her pleading eyes, and accepted their apology. Then, he found out he'd share a room with them. He'd been upset, to say the least, especially when one of them had a nightmare, and insisted on sleeping next to him.  
  
Carolina had snapped a photograph, the next morning, and he'd nearly died of embarrassment, when she'd gone to call her parents in, to see "how cute CB looks, with Carson next to him!" He'd gone back to sleep, as the boys got up, and now Carolina was dragging him out of bed, and down to breakfast. He didn't really look forward to having breakfast with a family near him, but the smell of pancakes, eggs, and bacon made his stomach rumble rather loudly.  
  
"Well, I know you must be hungry." Carolina whispered, as they entered the kitchen.  
  
"Well, now, what are you two whispering about?" Camille asked, sounding cheerful.  
  
"Probably planning on sneaking off, soon, and doing things I wouldn't approve of." Chang replied.  
  
"Daddy! CB and I are just friends!"  
  
"Sure, sweetheart."  
  
CB sat at the table, and Camille set a plate in front of him. He stared, a bit, and watched, as everyone else started eating. Carolina stopped, and looked at him.  
  
"Aren't you hungry, CB?"  
  
"Well. Yes."  
  
"Well, go ahead, eat. This isn't like some of the trainyards I've heard you were in, here you can eat without waiting until everyone's finished."  
  
CB smiled, a bit, and Carolina squeezed his shoulder. He felt a lot more relaxed, and more at home, all of a sudden. Seeing what family life was really like, he could actually realize that Poppa, Belle, and Rusty, even though they weren't his parents or brother, were his family. He felt something in him start to crumble away, and he knew, deep down, that things weren't going to bother him, much longer. After eating, he excused himself, to go for a short trip. He stopped, in the middle of a trestle, and looked over the side, clinging tightly to the guardrails.  
  
"CB?"  
  
He turned, and saw Carolina. She rolled over to him, and placed her arms around him, trying to read his expression.  
  
"This trestle means something to you, doesn't it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Care to tell me?"  
  
"It was the place I first killed."  
  
"That was a long time ago, wasn't it."  
  
"Ten years. I was eight."  
  
"I was ten, when I killed. I almost killed myself, a bunch of times, afterward. That's how I ended up with Micki and Garrett."  
  
CB looked at Carolina, as she rested her head on his shoulder. He couldn't really tell, how he felt about her, anymore. He wanted nothing more than to be friends with her, but having her there with him, he couldn't help feeling that there was something more, between them.  
  
"Hey, Carolina.?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
As she looked up, CB hesitated, then kissed her. She smiled, inwardly, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she almost screamed. CB felt a hand come down on his shoulder, and spin him around, pulling him away from her. It was her father.  
  
"And just what the hell do you think you're doing with my daughter, boy?"  
  
"Daddy."  
  
Chang shoved CB into the guardrail, and glowered down at him. CB's hat fell off, and hit the stones below.  
  
"Daddy, stop it!"  
  
Chang leaned forward, glaring straight into CB's eyes.  
  
"Listen here, boy." Chang said, so quietly that Carolina couldn't hear him. "I swear. If you hurt my daughter. If you even think of hurting her. I shall rip of your head, write derogotory statements all over it, and mock it, before throwing it into the Mississippi River! Got that?"  
  
"Y-yes."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yes, s-sir."  
  
"Good."  
  
Chang moved back, and Carolina threw her arms around CB, clinging to him like a child would cling to its mother. He stared, amazed at how much this family cared about Carolina. And how much she cared about him. He wrapped his arms around her, and placed his cheek against the top of her head.  
  
"Hush, now. I'm all right. I'm all right."  
  
CB felt himself getting ready to collapse, as they entered the building, some hours later. He felt strange. Not sick, only strange. Carolina stayed right by his side, until he felt well enough to stand. When he did, Carolina brought him the phone, and sat next to him.  
  
"It's your mom." Camille called.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey, kiddo, it's Belle."  
  
"Belle! Hi!"  
  
"Just wanted to get some news on you."  
  
"There's a lot."  
  
"Such as.?"  
  
CB looked at Carolina, and grasped her hand.  
  
"Well, Belle. I'm in love." 


End file.
